Stupid Odin

The border of Midgard, a middle-level world, at the Iron Forest!

The black forest, with patches of snow on its canopy, resembled gently undulating waves in the fierce wind, stretching from the left to the far right of the horizon.

Deep and wild howls of wolves echoed from every corner of the forest, the pack using this method to signal their intent to kill.

The howls grew closer, and the roars, gnashing, and growls of these snarling, chaotic beasts drifted on the wind.

In the distance, black creatures the size of bulls could be seen darting through the hard ironwood trees.

From time to time, the alpha wolves of small and medium packs would stop, their brutal eyes filled with hostility, gazing at the distant giant humanoid figures.

Even though the alpha wolves keenly sensed the danger, they still barked orders, urging the pack to attack, from their mouths full of fangs.

The wolf pack appeared en masse; in the depths of the Iron Forest, where sunlight barely penetrated, countless blood-red eyes gleamed in the darkness. Their sheer number was enough to trigger trypophobia, like a swarm of krill in the ocean.

The various mortal kingdoms had assembled an army of 200,000, standing on the hills under different banners, craning their necks and watching this scene with uneasy eyes.

In an ordinary battle, their morale might have collapsed before the fighting even began.

But seeing the fully armed giants, 20 meters tall, forming a sparse skirmish line in front of the human army, and the Aesir gods, around five meters tall, radiating holy light, these mortal warriors regained their courage.

"Prepare for battle!" Thor, the leading Thunder God, raised Mjolnir high!

The booming sound of thunder shook the entire Iron Forest, startling countless birds in the forests behind the allied forces, causing them to take flight and scatter.

The horns of war sounded, their long and deep鸣声震动 resonating throughout the mountains and forests.

The Valkyries, riding descendants of divine horses over two meters tall at the shoulder and leading the armies of various kingdoms, also raised their spears high and shouted, "Order will prevail!"

The army responded thunderously: "Order will prevail!"

The wolf pack was approaching!

Closer!

The alpha wolf, standing at over ten meters tall at the shoulder, would undoubtedly be far larger than the giants when standing upright.

At this moment, lightning bolts from the clouds struck one after another, thousands of lightning snakes descending from the sky, targeting the alpha wolf and the most densely packed giant wolves.

Thor's ultimate move had an absurdly large area of effect, covering hundreds of meters at a glance, engulfing an area the size of several soccer fields of cypress forest.

"Rumble!"

The scene of an exaggerated torrent of lightning blasting into the forest was both terrifying and magnificent.

The hard tree trunks that were difficult to split with axes turned into powder in the lightning, and countless branches and leaves, along with the giant wolves, were blasted into scattered debris. Even upwind, one could smell the nauseating odor of roasted meat.

In any case, this scene would definitely inspire the bards accompanying the army.

For the Order Alliance, it was magnificent and awe-inspiring; for the wolf pack caught in the middle, it was a destructive and suffocating hell.

"Aooo!"

"Woo..."

The dense howls and wails of the giant wolves spread far and wide, causing many black wolves still running to instinctively arch their backs and tuck their tails between their legs.

Unfortunately, under the alpha wolves' stern roars, they still braced themselves and charged towards the allied forces.

They ran across the ground, surged out of the forest, and crashed into the battle line formed by nearly a hundred giants.

These giants, several stories tall when standing, were armed to the teeth.

Iron plates over 20 centimeters thick were made into armor, covering the giants' feet. Hardened codpieces protected against potential attacks from below.

And the long, slender tree trunks reinforced with iron hoops were made into terrifying war clubs. With a slight bend, the giants could sweep a radius of over ten meters, sending the bull-sized black wolves flying with a single blow.

When the giants blocked the largest of the chaos魔狼, only some black wolves, close to the size of calves, could reach the mortal battle line.

It wasn't over yet; the beautiful light elves hovered in the air, ruthlessly showering the wolf pack with arrows.

These giant wolves, at the bottom of the wolf pack's food chain, had to first endure a baptism of arrows and ballistae, then charge up a gentle 30-degree slope before facing the humans' shields and spears.

Only by breaking through the human shield wall would they have a chance to inflict any damage.

Unfortunately, most of them didn't get the chance to do so.

The translucent heroic spirits, emerging from the battle line, reaped the lives of the giant wolves with their skilled combat techniques.

Their existence itself was like a banner rising on the battlefield. They crossed the boundaries of death, returning to their compatriots who needed them, destroying the common enemy of mortals.

In a sense, their appearance inspired the mortal warriors' courage even more than the descent of the gods on high.

Because they told the world through their existence—death is not the end, chaos is!

In the end, less than a quarter of the giant wolves reached the human battle line.

Countless giant wolves were slaughtered on the hillside.

When the wolf pack's speed slowed down, the human battle line opened up gaps, and the heavily armored dwarf warriors charged out, wielding heavy battle axes to engage the wolf pack in a meat grinder. On the flanks of the battle line, the more mobile dark elf sword dancers surged out, these slender, dark-skinned humanoids turning into a black tide, eroding the wolf pack's flanks.

This grand war lasted from dawn until noon, ending with the near annihilation of the wolf pack.

They won!

Cheers from the allied forces resounded throughout the mountains and fields.

The Valkyries, as usual, began to select the souls of brave fallen warriors on the battlefield, taking them back to Valhalla as heroic spirits.

Thor, covered in blood, didn't show much joy on his face.

They won!

But at what cost?

Fandral, the sword master who had recently been awarded the title of "Asgardian Warrior", approached and, seeing that Thor's expression was not right, couldn't help but ask, "Your Highness, are you not happy?"

"I'm happy, but not that happy," Thor replied bluntly. "Something's not right. The last wolf scourge wasn't this severe, and according to Father, Ragnarok isn't supposed to be this easy."

Fandral frowned: "I also think the number of wolves is abnormal. We clearly killed Fenrir long ago, but these damned descendants of Fenrir keep appearing endlessly, like weeds growing from the ground."

"Fenrir definitely has offspring surviving somewhere. If we don't deal with those remnants, the mortal armies will eventually be unable to hold out," Thor gritted his teeth.